Skin
by KiwiWitch
Summary: Her skin never fit quite right. Even before she lost her heart, she sought freedom from it. When she gained a body that did, she was quick to lose control of it. Kagura has never had much luck in such things; the human skin never fit and the youkai body was never hers. But she knows that if she wants something, she has to get it herself.


***Edited.**

**I've decided to leave this as a one-shot, because I am having immense difficulty figuring out how I'm going to continue this. Truly sorry for anyone that wanted more.**

**During and post –manga, all characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi, I'm just tryna' copy off her swag.**

**Enjoy.**

…

Souls are tricky things.

A soul cannot be created, it must be born. The cycle of reincarnation cannot be interrupted or changed.

A soul cannot exist within two bodies at one point in time. The mikos were a special case, in that the soul was so large it was split between the two. Furthermore, the undead miko's body was merely a copy, made of clay and dirt, not flesh and blood.

As such, a soul can be stolen. One soul can be placed into another body. This does not always work, however, as stated before, souls are tricky. If the skin does not fit, the soul will not function within it. The body may move, but the mind and the individual will most likely cease to exist.

Even Naraku himself, with the power of an almost complete Shikon no Tama, must abide by these simple rules.

And so, without realizing it, Naraku is collecting souls. Somehow his slimy tentacles slip their way through the Bone Eater's Well, seeking out the perfect fit.

…

Kagura the wind user doesn't have a soul, but Kagura Suzumiya does.

So, when the human slips into a coma after a drug overdose, those slimy tentacles are quick to snatch her up, to force that soul into a new skin, a better one, a stronger one. They wrap her up tight and sow her shut with a bow in the shape of a spider.

And it is the youkai who opens crimson eyes, with only foggy memories of a past life.

But Kagura doesn't much care, at first, because she's always been awkward in her own skin. Even though she was born into it, her skin never fit quite right, and she's always looked for an escape. The drugs were merely a quick release.

But this skin, this body, feels right. The new strength, she loves it. The wind in her face and hair, she can see better, she feels more. The earth moves beneath her feet, the wind speaks to her and she responds, flying and soaring, she dances on the eddies and they take her where they please.

It's beautiful, this dance, this life, this world. She can feel the beauty of it, in her skin and bones.

And to her, Naraku is a savior, he's given her this gift, this wonderful new body, this new dance of life. She owes him. So she doesn't much care when he tells her to kill the Yourouzokou, she remembers enough of her human life to know that she'd killed a man before.

And besides, what better way to test out this youkai body? She might as well live up to the legends.

It doesn't matter that she treats it more like a game, she laughs because to her, it is. Killing has become fun, not just a bloody accident in a grimy alley. She loves the power of the wind and the way it courses around her and the way she can make the corpses dance. Her puppets to control, an amusing spectacle until the end.

Of course there's pain, and the game is over, but this body heals quickly enough, and all she's left with is anger.

She's been betrayed, lied to. That's when she realizes that she never really escaped anything, that this body, in all it's glory, is not hers. It's no longer a gift, merely a glorified prison. Her heart, it seems, managed to escape, only to be caught by the man whose mark now scars her back.

The reality of it is enough to drive her mad, mad enough to consider returning to a human body. To that weakness. It makes her sick.

She wants that youkai heart, so much so that it aches and tears at her soul.

So she plots his demise, and when she finds someone who might be able to win her freedom, she finds herself falling back on human expressions. She thinks it's ironic, that the man who could be powerful enough to win back her heart is just to her taste.

Sesshoumaru himself doesn't care for her, or at least, never shows otherwise. He's not one for talking, at least not with her, but he turns down her offer of Shikon shards, and refuses to aide her. He leaves her with only basic advice:

_If you want something, get it yourself._

Later, she laughs. Not every damsel gets her Prince Charming.

She's punished, of course, for disobeying her master, and with her own eyes she finally sees the monstrosity that spawned this skin she wears.

She starts to regret.

In the time she is confined her resolve is hardened, and she is released more determined than ever to finally own this body, regardless of what created it. She'll get what she wants, no matter the cost.

She covers her tracks as best she can, hides her traitorous thoughts, and keeps secrets that might redeem her. She tries to help those who wish for her master's death, though some don't realize it, others don't acknowledge her actions at all.

It doesn't matter that she's not thanked, it doesn't matter that she's attacked with full force, even though she fights back with less than half her strength. Because she will be free and this body will be hers and her skin will finally fit.

There are setbacks, of course. Like the infant and the white child who can read minds. Her blood boils when she realizes that it would have been hers, had she merely left the stupid runt to die.

But she laughs because Naraku would. Would entrust _his_ heart to her, would count on her ignorance to keep him alive.

It's a slap in the face, when she realizes it. And her hunt starts all over again.

Kagura still helps, in small ways. She gives the fuyouheki crystal to Sesshoumaru, tells him where Naraku's heart lies, she leads the Inu-tachi to the bastard. That one was a trap of course, but at least she tried.

There are moments, short lived ones, when she doesn't hate this fate of hers. When she thinks, had things been different, she might have had a chance with the dai-youkai. When he pulls her from the river, and what she hopes are concerned eyes watch as she flies away. When he protects her from Mouryoumaru, more or less, in his own way.

She disregards the fact that Sesshoumaru attacks them both, full strength, only moments later. He has to keep up appearances, and she's always been a bit of a hopeless romantic.

But no matter how hard she fights, or how far she digs her claws into this world, it means nothing.

In the end, her downfall isn't the attachment to the Inu Dai-youkai. It's to a young boy, forsaken just the same as she. He reminds her of a sibling, though now she can't even remember if she had one. But Kohaku is close enough, with that simple grin and freckled cheeks.

His body, though only living because of a Shikon shard, is his own. He belongs here. She does not. He deserves to live on. She wonders if she ever deserved to live at all.

Kagura sends the boy away, if she can't win her own freedom, why not fight for someone else's? It might be the only redeeming act she's ever done, and it's never too late to try being good.

She knows she'll die, and really it doesn't matter anymore. Maybe death was the freedom she sought all along.

The Inuyasha-tachi want to help, but it's already too late for that. Naraku can wait, he's done it before. Why prolong the inevitable? She's fought these people too long, no point in getting attached if she's to die anyway.

She briefly wonders if she should tell the miko, tell her what she should have said all along. But thinks better of it. No reason to make things more complicated.

So instead, she flies. As fast as she can, reveling in the feeling of the wind upon her skin. She savors it, the last time she'll have this power.

She's not surprised when he finds her. Lies to her, because that's really all he's ever done. He enjoys it, watching others suffer, far too much for his own good.

Naraku leaves her with a beating heart and gaping holes through her chest. At least he leaves her to herself. He lets her find her own place to die, he won't make her suffer through his gaze in her last moments. She's thankful for that.

She keeps flying until she can't anymore. Til the wind beneath her feathers begins to lose strength, til she can't keep herself afloat anymore. She lands in a field of flowers, stumbles through the petals, staining them a brilliant red, her own blood. The blood of this body.

She collapses to her knees, lets the wind caress her face. It's not hers anymore. She waits, watches the flowers sway in the breeze. She realizes she's never done that before. Never sat in the grass and appreciated it. She does now.

She's glad because this body is finally hers. This body with all it's scars and leaking wounds, is hers. She owns it, but it won't obey. Won't move. She wants to scream but even that is beyond her now.

The waiting is the worst thing, but in the end she's glad for that, too, because if it had been quick she would not have seen him again.

She smiles because he's there, and she thinks she sees something other than contempt in his eyes. She wishes she could speak more, could tell him, but really all that matters is that he's there, that he came for her, he won't let her die alone. That maybe he cared.

When her body begins to break apart, the pain stops. She's free from that, too. And she expects the darkness to swallow her. She waits to be engulfed in hellfire, because, let's face it, she wasn't the nicest person around, in either of her lives.

What she doesn't expect to see is a hospital room.

There's a man standing next to the bed, his face lit by the green glow of too many monitors. There's some incessant beeping sound coming from one of them, she wants to smash the damn thing, but finds that she still can't move. Her body still won't obey.

There's a woman, crying, screaming her name, a grin spread from ear to ear. It takes Kagura a moment to connect the face to the word "mother".

…

"_When you woke up, you were smiling."_

Kagura finds that strange, because what does she have to smile about?

She can't do much of anything, she can barely walk, her legs atrophied from five months of disuse. Her skin feels flimsy, too weak, soft. She suspects that's because it's human, not because of the side effects of her coma.

They tell her she had been brain dead. That they thought she would never wake up. That it's a miracle she can even open her eyes. She's not really listening.

Kagura, the wind user, may have just been a dream, and that thought terrifies her. But how could it have been a dream, if she couldn't have dreamed?

She tells no one.

She hates this body, it's weaknesses.

They teach her how to walk again. How to run. But she can't fly.

She misses the feel of the wind on her face and rustling her hair. The closest she gets is an open window on the car ride home.

She hates this world, the smells and the noise. The chaos that is a city street in the day. Everything is bright and sharp, too hot or too cold, too fast. Too many eyes.

The Sengoku Jidai was never kind. But at least there were no pretenses, life was easy if you knew how to live. And Kagura the wind user had known, she had learned. Maybe too late, but she had learned.

At the very least, she has a family now, one that cares for her. This one was born together, grew together. It wasn't made, wasn't created with evil intent. And while she hated some of her youkai siblings less than others, there was never any expectation that they _loved _each other.

But this human family is different. She forgets this sometimes.

Like when she wakes up to a small but firm hand on her shoulder, she jumps and swings a fist, catching the owner in the jaw.

"_You brat! I'll fucking kill you!"_

Her mother pauses, and tears come flooding into her eyes, a hand holding her injured jaw. Kagura apologizes profusely, and regrets ever opening her mouth. Her mother doesn't say much to her after that, and she definitely doesn't try to wake her up anymore.

But at least her parents should be proud because she no longer comes home late, no longer brings home strangers, no longer asks for odd amounts of money for things she can't name.

Instead she keeps to herself. She crawls up onto the roof, stays there for hours upon hours. Often she falls into contemplative silence. Sometimes they catch her reaching a hand to her bun, only to have a look of anger flash over her face, and the hand falls. She wears a yukata now, when she's at home. She says it's more comfortable, even though she always hated them before. She buys red eyeliner and red lipstick, wears them daily, regardless of the occasion. She reads old books, fairytales and folklores, mumbles to herself and they can never quite understand what she says.

Often they catch her staring in a mirror. She runs her fingers over rounded ears and squints and tugs at her eyes. No matter how much she does this, shapes and colors still don't change.

They never ask her why she does these things, never ask her if she dreamed. She's glad they don't.

She doesn't go back to school, even if she could, she wouldn't, there would be no point. Instead she gets a job, and at first that's hard to do because of her record, but she manages. She can handle taking orders from a boss, because there's something in it for her, and she can quit anytime. She likes having that option.

But she misses the body of a youkai, not just the ability to harness the wind, but she misses the strength. So when she's not working, she exercises. She pushes herself, til her lungs burn and her body aches, til her heart is pounding through her chest. She likes that bit, because it's proof that at least she got one thing out of the bargain.

If her skin doesn't fit, she's damn determined to _make _it fit.

And it's not just the body that she craves, she misses that world. That world full of dangerous and fantastical things. Where there were no skyscrapers to damper her wind. Where the trees shook and sang with the breeze. She misses the feel of dirt and grass between her toes. She misses the sight of a blue moon.

Her life continues, and everyday memories of a dream that may have never been slip away. She tries to grab them, and she writes, in jumbles, disconnected thoughts and memories. She hopes that maybe one day she can prove that it was real, if only to herself.

There is a glimmer of hope, a year later, when a high school girl with clear brown eyes is only seconds too late for the train. Kagura sees her through the foggy window, and curses her human weakness.

The wind user would have simply shattered the glass. The human lets out a strangled scream that receives odd stares.

But now she knows, knows that it was no dream. Knows that somehow, that life was real.

_If you want something, get it yourself._

Maybe she can get it back, her strength, her youkai skin. She'll settle for that much.

Finding a schoolgirl in Tokyo is harder than it seems, even when she waits at that train station everyday for a month, to see the girl again. Frustration eventually wins out, and she gives up that venture.

So she searches elsewhere, not caring that she's returning to an old lifestyle. It's not the same as before. The shady dealings have greater purpose, but also higher stakes.

It takes time and money, and quite a bit of coercion, but she finds what she's looking for eventually.

Few youkai still live in Japan, few are willing to speak with her, and fewer still know the name of Naraku or the wind user. Most laugh in her face when she explains to them her story. They think she's a fool, a stupid human, and lose interest with her quickly.

The wind user would have sliced their heads clean off. The human just leaves in a quick huff.

She's forced to give up that venture as well, their prices too high for something they can't guarantee. She doesn't believe them when they do.

She resigns herself to a human life. She works, she toils, she earns her keep. She becomes a role model for her brother, who reminds her of another boy from another life.

Still, every night she crawls onto the roof of and stares at the moon. She raises her hand, and tries to grasp the wind.

…

Years pass.

By now she's accustomed to this lifestyle. She knows she won't ever get much better than this. She still lives with her parents, but that doesn't bother Kagura much. She owes them something, for all the years she put them through hell.

She's twenty now, and stronger than most human girls. It's something she's proud of, it's the way things should be, she's not one for being meek, though it scares most of the men around her. It doesn't matter much.

There are men, of course, she obliges them when they offer to take her out. She sees no harm in it, a free meal, a few drinks. But none of them are worth it. She's gotten over the fact that she'll never see her golden-eyed prince again, but a girl can dream. And besides, none of these boys even add up.

But she's so incredibly tired of it, the monotony of human life. At times she wants to claw at her skin, to see what's really underneath. Maybe she'd just deflate, like a balloon.

Sometimes she reads her writings from that first year and is tempted to tear them to shreds, burn them, anything to see those words gone. They make her too hopeful, about what she could have had. But then where would her memories go?

She's stopped caring about a lot of things. She still works, but sees no point in it. She mostly uses the money to indulge herself. Most of the indulgences are sweets and cakes. She likes the layer of fat that forms on her hips and thighs. She thinks it's beautiful, it's a bit of tenderness to cover the muscle. It's really the only thing she enjoys in this body.

She has a collection of fans hung in her room. They serve no purpose, which she regrets. Sometimes she'll take one down and just hold it, flick it open and closed again, pretend that she has power.

She takes long walks home now, unnecessary detours. She likes wandering down the unknown streets, the quieter ones, obviously. She doesn't like the feeling of being watched when she walks down the busy ones.

It is on one such occasion that she passes by the shrine.

She's been to shrines before, but not this one, and it is the long stairway that intrigues her. Not many like it exist anymore, and she finds her feet taking her up and up and up.

When she reaches the top she's not really surprised, it's a shrine, typical. She wanders the grounds, reading the plaques posted here and there. Goshinboku, the Bone Eater's Well. Her eyes are kept busy, but she's not retaining the information. It's not important anyway.

It's calm here, the air is still, except for a slight breeze that rattles the leaves of the Goshinboku. The charms around the trunk sway silently, and she absently wonders what could have stripped the bark off such a large tree.

After a while she tires of wandering, and turns to leave when she sees the small shop. Really, it's pitiful, but she's a sucker for those sorts of things, and finds herself looking over the goods. Sutras and talismans and charms. Maybe she should get one or two for her parents…

She stops short.

"_Shikon no tama…"_

There's the sound of shuffling and an old man appears from behind a stack of boxes, obviously having heard her voice. He smiles at her, his mustache twitching from the movement, and strokes his beard.

"_Oh, yes, the Shikon no Tama. A jewel of great power, if you keep it your house will be safe and your business-"_

"_I know what it is, old man!" _she's trembling, but she can't explain why. This old man knows, knows something, and she's surprised by how quickly her want of knowledge is rekindled. _"Do you know it's history? What happened to it?"_

The man stares at her, slightly unnerved by her outburst, but he nods. _"When the right wish was made, the jewel ceased to exist."_

"_What 'right wish'?"_

The man looks at her, conflicted, then he nods again. _"I will tell you the story, the Shikon no Tama was devoured by a great youkai, a great spider-"_

"_Naraku…"_

She breathes the name for the first time in almost four years and the man stares at her in shock. _"How did you…"_

Kagura grabs him by the collar with more force than she intended. _"Who told you?!" _She remembers a school girl, only seconds late for a train…

"_Ah! Ah! My granddaughter! Kagome, she-"_

The man is dropped back onto his feet and Kagura feels like a fist is in her gut. _"Where is she?" _she chokes. She needs to know, needs to know how to get back, needs to know if she can return to that body, to that world, to him.

"_Jii-chan!" _the eleven year old stares at Kagura, who leans against the counter.

"_Where is Kagome?"_

"_Nee-chan is… she's not here."_

"_Please," _she begs, shaking her head, _"I just want to know, I want to go back. How did she do it? Please, just tell me. I have to try"_

The boy swallows, then nods, understands, or at least Kagura hopes he does. But Souta's seen that desperate look before. He leads her to the well.

Kagura doesn't question it, when the boy points to the well. He tells her it no longer works, Kagome jumped in months ago and never came back. Kagura doesn't care, she's willing to try. She could break a human leg, or she could gain a youkai one. It's either or. She'll take the chance. She's too close, waited too long.

When she jumps the ground comes up faster than she had expected.

And then all she can feel is pain before the darkness.


End file.
